I walked on a northern shore
Where the sandywort sped on before the ocean's blast
The grass ran like lemmings for the dune's high edge
And I thought it meant like the grass
We bend in the driving gale
And scarcely paused to think what makes the wind so strong
Or if there's a refuge from the driver's flag
But then I heard the saddest song
Of the Irish Girl
The Irish Girl

Her eyes through a sparkling red
Like raindrops on a laurel when the moon appears
She sang of her sorrow through the stinging spread
And through the sweeter brine, the salt of tears
I weep for the lost of a love
Who's gone brooding now and silent as a standing stone
Two sides of a coin we rolled a battered roll
But in time he chose to leave alone
His Irish Girl
His Irish Girl

I touched her and spoke my name
For it seems she didn't know me for the song she sang
She said, oh I know your face but here's the shame
For though I knew the boy, who knows the man
And I wept who might turn for the fool
Who never saw the joys that make a blind man smile
Seeking his fortune while the brightest jewel
Was within his reach all the while
The Irish Girl
His Irish Girl